Goodbye, Raggedy Man

The Stranger

It had been two years since that day in Manhattan. Two years since Amy and Rory had disappeared into another time, kissed by an angel. But a weeping angel's kiss meant death. A fate not even the Doctor could save them from.

He was missing River, too. He had seen her only one time after the return of the weeping angels. He was a lonely man, distant and unattached. He flew the Tardis straight past burning civilizations, dying planets, never helping. The Doctor had changed, and not for the better.

He had landed on the planet Romadoam. Just a quick trip, to get a new part for his Tardis. Which happened to be leaking a black, oily liquified on to the console room floor. So he was in quite a rush, running down the dirt roads, when he ran into someone.

"Ow!" he cried.

"Hey!" said a female voice. His vision cleared, and he looked up. A pretty girl, with shiny brown hair was sprawled on the ground. She climbed to her feet, rubbing her elbow.

"You ran in to me!" She complained.

"I was in a hurry." he said.

"Well, you could have looked where you were going."

"Sorry! Hey, do you happen to know any good mechanics?"

"You're looking at the best of the best." The girl smiled proudly.

"Well, you see, I've got quite a bit of a problem..."

"I'd be happy to help. Not for free, of course."

"Then come on! Right away!"

The Doctor led the girl to the Tardis. "Oh my!" she exclaimed, when she saw the puddle of fluid on the floor. She got to work immediately. The Doctor watched from the side, a pouty look on his face. "You didn't say it. It's no fun when you don't say it."

"Say what?"

"It's bigger on the inside."

"Way to state the obvious."

"Wait. Will you say it now?"

The girl turned to look at him. "Nope!"

The Doctor let out a long, dramatic sigh, and acted grumpy for the next twenty minutes until the job was done.

"Alright," he said, "how much?"

The girl answered, and he paid her. She was about to leave when she turned again. "You know, you never told me your name."

"Um, it's John Smith."

"Here's my card, John Smith. If you got any problems with this old thing again, give me a call."

"Don't listen to her, you're not old." the Doctor muttered, stroking the console. "Ah! Yes! Of course."

"Ok. Bye!" she waved. The Doctor glanced down at the card. It read:

Clara O. Oswald.

Mechanic, scientist, spaceship pilot

Visit my shop on Treeline Road

"Clara O. Oswald..." the Doctor thought for a moment.

And then he raced out the door to her shop.